


Fighting Words (The Internal Struggle Remix)

by afrocurl



Series: remixes and such [21]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Crippled Erik, Erik has Issues, Erik is not a Happy Bunny, Introspection, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-14 16:18:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8020663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afrocurl/pseuds/afrocurl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik's goals were simple until he accomplished one and ruined the rest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fighting Words (The Internal Struggle Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [phalangine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phalangine/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Fighting Words](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7188974) by [phalangine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phalangine/pseuds/phalangine). 



_Finally._

His life’s mission complete: Shaw’s lifeless body lays on the floor in the submarine.

Erik wills himself to crow in victory, but as soon as he feels his voice rising, sharp pain races up his back.

 _I can’t feel my legs,_ he tells Charles before the pain overtakes him and he collapses to the floor.

-

Hands carry him up, Erik thinks, to somewhere else. Voices talk to him as if he listens, but as soon as they utter words that crumble to Erik’s pain, he feels cold.

Carefully placed on a soft mattress, Erik only feels pain radiates up and down body, but it feels as if it stops just above his hips.

Sleep claims him most of the time, and Erik welcomes Morpheus when he falls into those arms.

-

Finally, Erik walks to a room that smells like Death would round a corner any moment. White walls, white sheets and ugly plastic chairs: Erik had long hoped he could avoid returning to a place like this.

So he tries to imagine why he’s here and who would bring him to a place that he associates with pain and torture.

Shifting to move off the bed proves difficult; his legs -- try and his might -- won’t move with him.

Panic. Terror. Fear.

He feels them all, but he cannot feel his legs.

The door opens quickly, and Charles walks in, saying, “Oh my friend, I had hoped to be here when you woke up. I know you hate this, but you must sit still. Let me explain.”

With nowhere else to go, Erik nods, letting Charles’ words wash over and through him.

-

In a perfect world, Erik’s leg would allow him to move throughout Charles’ mansion. Alas, Erik now realizes that while he was able to kill Schmidt and end his personal mission, it will be the first and last mission he can achieve.

Even though he wants to chart a new course without Charles, Erik knows he has nowhere to go in his state. Those that wanted to follow him have come to New York, despite all of the animosity between them.

Politely, Erik and his followers are given a wing to themselves, so that if Erik chooses to take up his ideals, Charles will know nothing.

Erik wishes he could lead Angel, Janos, Azazel, and Mystique into a battle. Rather, he simply discusses what they can do to further the cause of raising mutant awareness.

-

Charles leaves Erik to his business. Erik misses Charles at his side, but rather than tell his friend that, Erik forces himself to think of anything else.

His life before is just that. Before.

What gave him comfort before landing in Cuba can provide him nothing. He just sits here, useless, longing for a life he cannot have.

-

Always quick to anger, Erik now is a powder keg ready to ignite. Their recruits - his and Charles’ - are Charles’ chosen ambassadors, bringing breakfast, lunch and dinner while Erik’s body recovers. Erik wants to throw every offered meal back at them, often does. 

He is undeserving of food after this. For all that he has accomplished, he still failed. He survived horrors before, but what he needs now, he cannot ask for.

Erik’s ire at them is misplaced, for it’s not their fault that Erik was left lame and useless. His power and his rage --which served him so well before-- are unwieldy and useless when he knows someone is offering comfort.

Forks, knives, spoons all liquify when he hears another knock on the door.

The food is left within Erik’s reach, but he never touches it.

-

Mystique looks at him with pity now, and she rarely speaks. She stares at him, confusion knitted on her face, unsure if she knows him anymore. She knows nothing about Erik, he knows. Erik hid his pain before, but now he lets it flash on his face whenever he sees fit.

She simply sits at his side, and Erik wants to yell that she should leave. He is no longer fit to be a lover to her. To anyone. He is useless.

That everyone should leave him.

He knows now that he should reject her. He’s not a lover anymore. He’s not good for anything, truthfully. 

-

As if Erik needs more pity, Charles finally arrives to talk to him, after every one of their recruits cowers in fear when faced with bringing Erik food.

Like always, Erik cannot focus on a single feeling -- he thinks of what his team could do, of what he should do ( _kill yourself_ , his mind whispers) -- but as soon as Charles knocks, Erik gives his mental permission to come up and turns the locks.

For the last hour, Erik has been trying to find a comfortable position to sit. He feels worn out, sweaty and flushed.

The wheelchair that Hank constructed sits useless just off to the side of the bed, too far away for Erik to use without calling it to his side; he never wants to leave his room so he leaves it out of reach. He rather wants to sit and wallow as he has been for weeks, but now that Charles has arrived, Erik thinks it rather pointless. Charles will convince him to get out of the room, explore what

Charles regards him -- his gaunt features, his disheveled clothes -- but says only this: “You should eat more.”

Erik wants to laugh at that being the first thing Charles says to him after all this time. “I’m fine,” he replies, even though he knows it’s a lie. Charles knows it’s a lie as well.

Charles knows just where to hurt Erik and he does. He yells about Sean, about Mystique about everything except what Charles should yell about: Erik.

Of course, all of those rants were tangentially related to what Erik did to each of them, what he did to himself to end up here - without legs, without purpose - but Erik rather wants to ignore everything else he had done.

Charles’ words bite as he continues to berate Erik for all of his choices. Except for the choice that was taken from him.

“I can’t feel my legs, Charles,” is all he says when he thinks Charles is done speaking. Because what is Charles to him now? Is Charles Erik’s friend? Is Charles Erik’s former lover? Why is Charles so stubborn to still believe in Erik when there is nothing left that Erik feels defines himself. Why is Charles so set to yelling at someone who holds no power?

Erik could say so much more. He could talk about his helplessness, his feeling of self-doubt, his uselessness without a fight to wage.

“I can’t feel them,” he says again, because that is the simplest thing to say.

“I know.” Charles’ voice is cool, calm and now devoid of any of his previous anger. He should be angry, though. Erik has ruined so many things in his life -- he’s ruined so many things in this house since he came home half a man -- yet rather than say any of that, Charles’ endless optimism shines through.

-

Nothing is settled after Charles comes to visit, which leaves Erik restless and annoyed. He wants to do something -- anything -- to feel like he matters. Instead, he is brought food by Charles each time, who says nothing, but offers small smiles as he leaves.

Erik wants to scream.

-

Weeks of the same pass Erik by in a haze, except for the slight changes from grey to blue as storms pass through. 

From time to time, Erik tries to read a novel Charles brings in, but the pages only hold him for so long.

Life feels like an endless loop, which Erik knows won’t end unless he does.

-

It must be February now, Erik thinks when one of his plates comes with a heart-shaped box with chocolate.

As if Erik would ever eat chocolate again after Schmidt.

Another wasted day, another wasted attempt to make Erik smile at the sad state of affairs.

-

A flash of red smoke clouds Erik’s vision one afternoon as he passes off yet another lunch from Charles.

Azazel is there with Shaw’s telepath - Emma - at his side.

“Enough,” is all he says before he disappears back in a cloud.

“Oh this is worse than I had heard,” she says.

“And why do you care?” he asks.

“Because your mind is filled with endless possibilities to help our kind, and yet you’re here, alone."

“I’m rather useless to the cause. These,” he points to his still legs, “don’t work anymore."

“And why would you need to walk to help?”

“I don’t sit idly by.”

“Looks like that’s all you’ve been doing, sugar.”

“Because there’s nothing left for me.”

“And if you think that, you’re farther gone than Xavier said you were.”

Charles spoke with Emma Frost. That is news.

“I don’t see why you’re here.”

“I’m here,” she starts, “to kick your ass into action. Just because you’re not walking us into battle, doesn’t mean you can’t orchestrate the attacks. I don’t think you killed scores of Nazis without careful study and careful planning. Do that and let us do the rest.”

“I--” he starts, but stops himself. He has no idea if he can still do that now. Is he capable?

“Just think about it,” she says before he picks up his plate and walks out.

Emma leaves Erik alone, with too much to think about on his mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my betas for the help!


End file.
